His earlier interruption in the kitchens had made Kylar forget to grab anything beyond stew, and Jayce had noticed.
Kylar, Kairi, and Darius sat at the small table eating. Shade sat on the floor with his back to the bedpost, too keyed up to pretend he wanted comfort. Rush and Tessa claimed the beds like they were war councils disguised as blankets.
Jayce set the tray down and dropped onto the edge of the nearer mattress beside Tessa.
Rush waited until Kylar had swallowed. “We leave tomorrow,” he said, voice low. “Quietly. No one here knows who Kairi is, or who I am. But the rumor of Prince Dato courting a noble lady is… well established now.”
Kairi and Kylar kept their eyes on their bowls like the stew had suddenly become fascinating.
Jayce leaned back on his elbows. “And now you’re all sleeping in one room,” he added. “So the rumor will become… extremely serious.”
Tessa signed without hesitation, her hands crisp in the lamplight.
Darius nodded, mouth still half-full. “They’re practically married already.”
Kylar did not look up. He stirred his stew like he could rearrange the entire conversation with a spoon.
Kairi, very dutifully, took another bite and dipped her bread in the broth like she was attending a lesson on proper eating and not listening to everyone tease her into the grave.
Rush breathed out through his nose and looked at his sister. She was pointedly ignoring him.
“Congratulations on your betrothal, little bird.”
That she couldn’t ignore.
Kairi finally lifted her eyes, swallowed, and took a moment like she was choosing composure on purpose. “Thank you for accepting him,” she said quietly.
Her gaze flicked to Kylar, who was still focused on his stew with impressive discipline, then back to Rush.
“You mentioned pressing for Tearian traditions,” she continued. “How much of our traditions are you going to ask for? For me?”
Darius dunked more bread, eyes moving between them. “And how does Tearian tradition affect guarding?” he asked. “My ability to protect her.”
Rush’s mouth curved. He was liking Darius more and more with every question that came out of him.
“I’ll push for anything that keeps you two close,” Rush said. “I won’t push for fanfare. But I can’t promise the Temple of the Phoenix won’t.”
Kairi frowned and picked at her stew now, appetite faltering the moment priests were mentioned.
Kylar finally paused. “So… the parts that let me be near her without the court screaming propriety,” he said slowly, tapping his spoon as he sorted the details in his head. “But with enough modesty that the whispers don’t turn into… problems.”
Rush nodded once. “Niveus and I will decide what becomes law. Guarding,” his eyes moved to Darius, then Kylar, “depends on what the temples decide they’re entitled to.”
Kylar and Darius both held still at that.
Kairi’s face warmed. She abruptly became extremely invested in her apple.
Rush saw the shift and cut the air cleanly. “Tomorrow,” he said. “We’ll discuss it in the carriage.”
Kylar’s eyes flicked to Kairi, then back to Rush. “Okay.”
Tessa stood, then looked between them and signed, blunt as always.
Rush turned his head toward Jayce with the look of a man who needed help.
Jayce groaned anyway and sat up. “She wants to know if women are treated differently while courting than in Naberia.”
Tessa’s eyes narrowed at him. Jayce lifted a hand like surrender. “Naberia treats women like… private treasures,” he said, searching for the least insulting words. “Tearia is… not that.”
Shade chose that moment to be unhelpful.
“Tearians like to show off,” he said, as if that explained everything. “If we were in Tearia, your prince would’ve died and gone to heaven just from the outfits she’d be wearing as Phoenix vessel waiting for her mate.”
Every head turned.
Kairi choked on her stew.
Darius leaned in automatically and patted her back, gentle, practiced at it already.
Tessa flushed. She stared at her hands for a beat, then looked at Kylar and signed:
Kylar swallowed hard. “They call them dresses in Tearia,” he said, like the word itself was a trap. “They… they’re…”
He looked at Kairi for help.
Kairi stared back at him like: absolutely not.
Kylar’s gaze flicked to Rush. Rush was smirking now. Of course he was.
Kylar looked at Jayce like a man begging for mercy.
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Jayce sighed. “Tessa,” he said, resigned, “they covered very little.”
Tessa nodded slowly, eyes brightening in a way that promised violence to future nobles. She looked at Kairi and signed, delighted:
Jayce burst out laughing.
Kairi’s face went scarlet. She dropped her gaze back to her bowl and ate like if she behaved hard enough the conversation would die.
Rush wanted to spare them now and went back to travel. "We will roll into Carlbrin late afternoon if we keep a good pace?"
Jayce nodded, grateful for something he could count. “We’ll hit the outer gates, brief check, then straight to the palace. Ryder or Niveus will see the commotion in the town if they’re paying attention. They’ll have a welcome ready by the time we reach the main drive.”
Kylar nodded. “If it’s just my family, we can be less formal. If nobles are there… we’ll need to be proper.” His voice went faintly grim. “Father will want a family feast. They’ll unload everything, take your things to whatever rooms they’ve prepared.”
Rush nodded. “I’m assuming Niveus will place her separately from you for now,” he said, and there was an edge to it that made Kairi’s shoulders tense. “I’ll talk to him about Tearian tradition. We can adjust.”
Kylar choked.
Darius patted his back this time without looking, like it was just part of his job now.
Jayce’s eyes slid to Darius. “Her rooms will have a guard room attached,” he said. “You’ll be expected to stay there until further notice.”
Darius nodded once, solemn as if this was an oath. “I’ll start nesting.”
Tessa watched Kylar regain his composure and glanced back to Rush, her hands hovering like she was weighing whether to ask.
She committed.
Rush caught most of it. Jayce’s gaze moved between her hands and Rush’s face, translating only the edges with a nod.
“Kairi isn’t… just a noble lady in their eyes,” Rush said carefully.
Kairi lifted her chin, voice quiet but firm. “The Phoenix is not a normal God-Beast.”
Tessa’s expression sharpened, attentive.
Kairi gestured to herself, palm against her sternum. “To the Temple of the Phoenix, I am sacred. Not important. Sacred. Which means they believe they have rights to me that a king does not.”
Darius’s jaw tightened. “Rights,” he repeated, tasting the word like poison.
Kylar’s hand stilled on his spoon. “Niveus can command his court,” he said slowly, “but priests will claim doctrine.”
Rush nodded once. “Exactly.”
Jayce leaned forward, elbows on knees now. “And what about Niveus? The Wolf priests?”
Kylar answered before Rush could. “Quiet. Modest. Ceremony, yes. But not…” his eyes flicked to Kairi, “…ownership.”
Rush’s mouth tightened. “The Dragon is worshipped in blood and strength,” he said, almost like it wasn’t a choice.
Darius, still watching Kairi more than his bowl, added cautiously, “The Griffin’s vessel is treated like weather itself. Reverence. Presence. Ritual.”
Kairi listened, then exhaled. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do for mine.”
That confession softened the room in a way nothing else had.
Rush’s gaze snapped to her.
Kairi kept going anyway, voice smaller. “The dragon won’t tell Rush. Only that we aren’t ready.” Her fingers tightened around her spoon. “And I know there’s a ceremony I’m meant to perform every handful of decades.” Her eyes dropped. “I didn’t get that far in my education.”
Kylar’s expression shifted, the protective kind that looked like anger to strangers. “We can fix the education part,” he said, like it was a vow.
Jayce nodded once, decisive. “We visit the temples in Carlbrin. We start asking what rituals were withheld and why.” His eyes sharpened. “And until we’re certain the Temple is clean, none of you go alone. Not even to light a candle.”
Kairi’s lips twitched, almost a smile. “Agreed. I’ll only go when Darius can go. Or Kylar.”
Shade, quiet on the floor, tapped his fingers once against his knee. “He’ll have to be marked. Branded”
Darius looked up fast. “Marked.”
Kylar’s head turned sharply. “Branded,” he echoed. “As in… burned?”
Shade didn’t flinch. “Yes.”
The air went tight.
Rush’s voice cut in before anyone else could speak. “Tomorrow,” he said flatly. “In the carriage.”
Kairi’s eyes snapped to him. “Rush.”
“Tomorrow,” Rush repeated, and this time his gaze held hers, warning and protective all at once.
Tessa clapped once, blunt as a door slam.
Rush swallowed, then answered himself, hands moving slower than usual. Even with the barrier of language, his meaning was unmistakable.
Kylar went still.
The thought hit him with the violence of a blade drawn too fast.
“The dragon says you two aren’t ready…” Kylar said slowly, eyes fixed on Rush. “Because the Phoenix hasn’t chosen the dragon to protect it.”
Silence.
Rush didn’t deny it.
He didn’t soften it either.
He just nodded once, small and decisive, like admitting it cost him something he couldn’t afford to show.
Kairi’s face drained of color. The chain at her throat seemed suddenly heavier, like it had remembered every year she’d waited.
Rush stood up, the chair scraping. “Enough.” His voice wasn’t angry, but it allowed no argument. He motioned to Shade. “Come.”
Shade rose immediately.
Jayce pushed off the bed and looked at Tessa. “Quick talk?”
Tessa watched Jayce for a beat, then nodded, and the two of them followed Rush and Shade out of the room.
It was quiet after the door shut.
Not the awkward kind. The kind where there was just a comfortable peace.
Kairi dabbed at her mouth with a napkin and sat with her hands folded, staring at nothing in particular like she was letting her thoughts settle back into her ribs.
Kylar exhaled long and let his head fall back against the chair. His eyes closed. For the first time all night, his shoulders unclenched.
Kairi watched that happen and something in her expression softened, fond and careful.
Darius stayed where he was, hands still, posture still soldier-straight. He felt like a guard posted inside a memory that didn’t belong to him.
Kairi glanced at him.
Darius looked away on instinct, giving them the privacy he could without leaving his post.
A small smile crossed Kairi’s mouth anyway. She rose, pushed her chair in, and stepped to Kylar’s side. Her hand settled on his shoulder.
Kylar opened one eye. “Hmm?”
She squeezed gently, right where the bandages and bruising had been. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Darius’s gaze flicked back despite himself, catching which shoulder she meant. A low, rasped laugh escaped him before he could stop it. “You did good work, Princess.”
Kairi didn’t take her eyes off Kylar’s half-lidded gaze. “Kairi,” she corrected, simply.
Darius’s mouth twitched. “Kairi,” he echoed, as if it was a new habit he didn’t want to get wrong.
He pushed away from the table and stacked the bowls and plates. For a second he considered taking them back to the kitchens, letting the two of them breathe.
Then the reality of it settled back in. Chaperone. Guard. Watcher. A room full of rumors and a city full of enemies.
So instead, he carried the dishes to the edge of the table, neat and out of the way, and moved to the bed he’d claimed.
“I’ll take this side, Ky,” he said, voice quiet. Practical. Anchoring.
When he glanced back, Kylar had finally moved.
He’d leaned forward and buried his face against Kairi’s torso, arms sliding around her with loose, exhausted possession like his body knew her before his mind could argue.
Kairi’s hand found his hair and combed through it slowly, steady as breath.
Kylar’s hand lifted just enough to sign, small and lazy:
Darius looked away immediately, pretending he hadn’t seen anything at all.
He toed off his boots, lay back, and stared up at the ceiling, listening to the room’s new rhythm.
“I’ll be right here” Darius said into the room, not looking at either of them.